Down from the Mountain

As down Mount Emerald at eve I came,

      The mountain moon went all the way with me.

Backward I looked, to see the heights aflame

      With a pale light that glimmered eerily.

A little lad undid the rustic latch

      As hand in hand your cottage we did gain,

Where green limp tendrils at our cloaks did catch,

      And dim bamboos o'erhung a shadowy lane.

Gaily I cried, "Here may we rest our fill!"

      Then choicest wines we quaffed; and cheerily

"The Wind among the Pines" we sang, until

      A few faint stars hung in the Galaxy.

      Merry were you, my friend: and drunk was I,

      Blissfully letting all the world go by.